Children of the Selasya
by a-dream-within-a-dream
Summary: Achilles wakes to find he has been taken captive by a Trojan tribe made up entirely of women who base their lives on Amazonian teachings, and takes a interest in the formidable, beautiful chieftess Sana.
1. Chapter 1

The mighty warrior Achilles, who no man could beat, the invincible champion of the Greeks, awoke to find himself tied to a post in the center of a wooden hut not entirely sure how he got there. He groaned loudly and immediately unknown female voices sounded from outside.

'He has awakened!'

'Quickly go and find the Chieftess.'

A moment of recollection hit him; he had been hunting for game in some nearby Trojan woods, sick of fish, when he had been caught in an elaborate trap, and then promptly knocked unconscious by a female and a blunt rock. Bracing himself, Achilles tried to find a weakness in his bonds. He'd be the laughing stock of the entire Greek camp if he didn't escape soon. He felt an acute pain in his neck and he looked down to see a knife pressed firmly against his throat drawing a thin line of blood.

'Do not attempt to escape, you will not make it past this hut alive.' His captor released the knife as he stilled his movements and stepped around into view. Achilles took in the worn-in sandals, armour covering slender calves, a pair of fine female legs scandalously covered by a short skirt made of animal skins, a taut stomach and full breasts also covered by a scrap of animal skins before looking into the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her face was oval and features flawless. Her lips, which were currently forming a wry smile, were full and red, with a siren's call to be kissed. Her eyes were a hypnotic sea blue, the colour of the ocean he had crossed to reach Troy and were alight with amusement. Long hair of a lustrous brown tumbled over her shoulders and she wore a gold circlet to assert some sort of authority. The only sight that wasn't so becoming was the large, powerful sword hanging casually at her side, as well as the bejeweled knife she still held in her hand. She seemed to be well aware of the appraising looks he was giving her body and placed her hands on her hips.

'Does the might Achilles like what he sees?' He avoided her question.

'You know me?' She lowered herself gracefully onto a pile of animal skins serving for bedding opposite him and began to fiddle with the knife.

'Aye we know of you, how can we not? You are a living legend.' She looked up with an impish grin. 'Can't imagine why. The finest warrior in all of Greece tied to a pole and being taunted by a woman? How the mighty have fallen!'

'Who are you girl?' He demanded, irritable and uncomfortable, if not a little embarrassed. She met his stare with her own, her eyes like blue flames, licking at the corneas.

'You would dare to address your captor so?' A silent battle of wills passed between them and Achilles spoke without breaking the eye contact in an attempt to gain the upper hand.

'I know of no other name to call my captor.' She nodded at his underlying challenge and relaxed her position.

'My name is Sana, and I am Chieftess of the Selasya Tribe.' He was thrown; he had never heard of such a tribe. Sana laughed at his blank expression.

'You have not heard of us,' she stood and began to circle him like a vulture, except a much more attractive version of one he deemed. 'A pity indeed, yet it is to be expected.'

'What is to be expected?' He asked levelly, not letting her know that her cryptic statements were increasingly agitating him. She knelt before him.

'We are a small tribe and we follow ancient traditions long forgotten by the Greeks?'

'You are Trojan?'

'Yes,' she waved her hand to signify its unimportance. 'But we care nothing for your war.' He shifted slightly.

'You feel no loyalty for your people and King?' With a hiss her blade was at his throat again, all light-heartedness long gone.

'They are not my people! I do not bow before that foolish King Priam or his idiotic sons, I would rather die first!' She withdrew her knife and stood up, her entire manner on edge.

'You have much to learn great Achilles.' With that she quickly left him still bound, wondering if he was to be killed come dawn.

I know it's short but please review! There's lots more to come!

Next Chapter: Achilles first day in the tribe and a history lesson


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to all my reviewers!

He woke, his neck and arms unbelievably stiff from his unforgiving position, the skin on his wrists rubbed raw by the bindings. Blinking like a startled rabbit in the bright sunlight, he made out the outline of a figure approaching. Once he could focus he saw that it was yet another woman dressed similarly to Sana, yet younger with strawberry-blonde hair pulled into a braid that fell halfway down her back. Her eyes were dark and vulnerable and she was refusing to look at him. Probably to keep her wits about her, he thought smugly, aware of the effect he had on women. Not Sana however, an inner voice argued. He frowned and paid it no heed.

The girl had knelt before him and set a modest plate of food aside, pulling out a knife and holding it tightly in trembling hands as she reached to untie his bonds.

'Do not try to escape, the Chieftess has given me permission to…'

He did not allow her to finish.

With speed a viper would envy he was on her feet and had taken her firmly with him, holding her arm baring the knife against her jugular, his other arm wrapped unyieldingly about her waist. Now free, Achilles was more that sure that he could slit this girl's throat by her own hand, yet there would still be many other warriors to hinder his escape, perhaps too many even for him. Besides, he was not accustomed to taking the life, or even hitting, women especially when they were barely older than adolescents like the one he was currently holding. No, better to use her as a living shield.

'Now listen here girl,' he intoned quietly and menacingly. 'We're going to calmly make our way out of this hut and I'm going to barter you for my freedom.'

'That won't be necessary Lord Achilles,' he rotated both of them to see the speaker, Sana, accompanied by several other female warriors all with arrows pointed directly at him. At the sight of her Chieftess, Achilles felt the young girl shake slightly. He was quite respectful of the fact that she had only just shown fear now, the true making of a warrior, just without the skill.

'Please Chieftess Sana, forgive me, I could not contain him,' she begged. An older, hardened woman laughed bitterly, her bow trained on the man meticulously, grey eyes glittering.

'Sana I told you it was foolish to send such an untrained and incompetent girl to bring the Greek his food.'

'Silence,' Sana commanded in a bored tone, all her attention fixed on the young girl. 'There is nothing to forgive Xante, it was wrong of me to place such a responsibility on one so young as Elya kindly informs me.'

The woman Elya tossed her hair over one shoulder, casually ignoring her leader's slight. Sana stepped forward to address Achilles.

'I suggest you release her this instant, for killing her will certainly get you no where, and I'm sure you agree it would be a pointless death.' Achilles knew when he was beaten, and with a sigh he released his hold on the girl Xante. Once free she scrambled to the safety of her fellow women her eyes wide in an innocent face. She could not be more than seventeen summers, same as his cousin. Sana sidled closer to Achilles and dropped her voice to a whisper only meant for his ears.

'And I wonder, are you the type to kill a woman? Or to strike her if she truly deserves it?' He did not answer and she promptly clapped his hands in irons, certainly a more effective way of keeping him prisoner.

'Perhaps you would care for a tour of the camp,' she said brightly and pulled the chain hard, giving him no choice but to follow her out of the hut and into the sunlight.

* * *

To his utter amazement, the entire camp consisted entirely of women; from the youngest child teetering on unsteady feet to the aged grey-haired maids gossiping and weaving garments. He looked around in bewilderment, women everywhere. He'd never seen so many women without a single male in sight. The camp was made up of at least a hundred and fifty people no, correction, women and was made up of many large wooden huts with thatched roofs in several rings of circle formation. He was standing on the edge of a large clearing where communal gatherings obviously took place; hence the large ring of rocks for a fire. Several dead animals were being cooked on smaller fires. The camp was well concealed by a dense shield of trees and greenery with sentries on watch constantly throughout the day. There was a shielded path leading away from the camp and it was down this path that Sana led him.

* * *

'I feel a history lesson is in order,' said Sana cheerfully, sprawling by the side of the lake. The path that they had followed had opened up to a glorious oasis natural pool to be used for bathing. Achilles sat uncomfortably on a rock never taking his eyes off Sana.

'Our tribe was started by my mother when she was barely fifteen, and heavily pregnant with me. She loved reading and had learnt about the ancient teachings of the Amazon women, women who kneel to or please no man. They provided shelter, food and fought for their freedom without any man to guide them and yet were still victorious. My mother and a handful of oppressed Trojan women decided to follow that way of life, my mother named as their leader as I now am.'

'How do you survive?' He asked. 'Without men how do you not simply die out?' She laughed and dipped her feet in the water.

'We are aware that men have their uses,' she smirked at him over her shoulder. 'And as customary with the Amazons once a month we travel to the nearby towns and villages to bed a man of our choosing. If a child is conceived and it is a boy we abandon it at the village. If it is a girl we nurture and train her as one of our sisters.'

'The village's wives must not approve of your methods,' he remarked lightly and was rewarded by her laughter. He turned serious. 'How many children have you conceived?'

'As Chieftess I have not yet bedded any man as I found none to be worthy of my choice,' she turned her attention back to the lake. 'No mere farmer will father my child.'

She said no more but instead began to wade into the water until it was up to her knees and reached down to splash her face and upper arms with the cooling liquid.

'Why am I here?' Achilles asked and she paused in her movements to meet his probing stare, blue and brown eyes studying each other meticulously until finally she deemed his question worthy of an answer.

'You trespassed in out woods, something all nearby men know much better than to ever dare doing, so now you are my captive until I feel it fit to release you back into your petty war.'

He was slightly taken about by her possessive claim to him until he noticed her subtle lingering gaze at his well-muscled chest. He almost laughed aloud; Sana the formidable Chieftess of the Amazons desired him. The notion was most amusing and quite interesting to the warrior. Therefore it was not surprising when, later that night, he dreamt of himself and Sana in some very erotic situations that would most definitely merit his throat being slit if he ever decided to share them with her.

Next chapter: Achilles gives a lesson in swordplay and things begin to heat up between him and Sana.

Please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for all your reviews! I'm glad you're liking this story so far. Swordplay question to be answered in this chappie. And Sana/Achilles action!

The next morning he awoke to find himself free from the post and curled up into the fetal position on the animal skins. His hands were still cruelly clapped in the irons and a plate of food was already before him, probably to avoid something similar to the fiasco with the girl Xante the previous day. He greedily ate and drank and then sat about idly wondering what he was supposed to do now. When no one came to the hut for him, and he was thoroughly too bored to remain there, Achilles ventured out into the camp, which was currently heaving with early morning activity. Women paused to look at him, some in curiosity, some in fear and others in mild disgust. Or not so mild, he reconsidered when one spat at his feet.

The metallic clanging of swords caught his attention and he noticed for the first time that a small crowd had gathered around two fighters. He maneuvered through the crowd to reach the front for a better view, women parting in a hurry to gaze at the mysterious male prisoner.

The girls who were fighting were both young, one he recognised as the blonde Xante. Her opponent was of darker colouring, although not as attractive, taller and lithe, and unmistakably the better skilled of the pair. Every one of Xante's inaccurate thrusts were parried and countered swiftly and effectively and before long Xante was flat on her back, sword discarded and her opponent was named the victor. Grumpily she got to her feet, visibly embarrassed at her failure whilst the other girl was praised. After several moments' deliberation, Achilles decided against his better judgment and stepped forward into the circle.

'Your stance is wrong,' he said to Xante, whose eyes had widened dramatically. 'As is your grip on the sword. Here,' he stood behind her which caused her to immediately tense, and repositioned her body and her grip. A male smirk crossed his face as she trembled at his touch.

'There,' he said, allowing himself to linger a little longer than necessary before moving away. He addressed the now silent crowd.

'If someone would be so kind as to release me, I could help her to improve her technique.'

'What fools do you take us for?' Demanded the woman Elya.

'Release him,' came Sana's clear voice as she stepped into view, intrigue on her fair features.

'But My Lady,' intoned Elya in an incredulous tone. 'He is a great threat.'

'And sorely outnumbered,' she pointed out. 'Release him.' A woman hastily stepped forward to remove the irons from his wrists and a sword was handed to him. Achilles tested the weapon's balance before turning to face the terrified Xante. I seem to have that effect on this girl, he mused before speaking.

'Ready?' His voice was kind and she nodded slowly, feeling a little more relaxed. Faster than even a God could see, he'd lunged at her and surprising herself Xante managed to block it with her new stance, the sound of clashing blades ringing out through the silence. She even managed a small counter attack. As Achilles brought his sword up to meet hers he nodded in approval.

'Good.'

They carried on this way, gently sparring, Achilles offering praise and advice wherever deemed necessary, careful not to put too much force into his blows, although he knew Xante would certainly need to build up her strength in time. The crowd watched intently at their prisoner's apparent kind help towards one of their youngest warriors, who had only recently begun training in their ways. Sana watched critically, yet with a small smile on her face whereas Elya simply glowered, a hawk's eye for anything amiss. Xante became a little over-confident and allowed Achilles an opening to fling her sword to one side and point his towards her. He smiled and she felt her breath catch in her throat as she promptly blushed, watching his muscles move as he placed his own sword on the ground to join hers. He stepped forward to pat the nervous girl on the arm.

'You fought well, but never underestimate your opponent, no matter what you believe their abilities to be.'

'Thank you,' she stuttered with a smile. Achilles nodded and turned to Sana.

'I suppose you wish to bind me again,' he raised a questioning eyebrow. After an achingly long pause she approached him.

'Do you give me your word that you will not try to escape?' In a courtly gesture he took her hand and kissed it, ignoring the outrageous gasps from the crowd.

'You have my word Chieftess.'

'I thought I had your word.'

Achilles looked up from his task of tying his sandals in preparation of escape and saw Sana's silhouette framed in the doorway.

'You did my Lady,' he said as he stood. 'I am not _trying_ to escape, I am escaping,' he smiled impishly at her glower.

'I'm not going to let that happen,' she declared, looking up at him as he drew closer.

'Yes you are,' he said quietly.

'And why is that?' In answer he pulled Sana hard against him and placed a searing kiss on her slightly parted lips. It was over before she had even registered what he had done and he was already slipping past her. Sana was livid. She grabbed him by his armour and flung him back inside the hut with such force that he fell to the floor in a heap on the animal skins. She straddled him, her knife out and pressed once again to his throat.

'How dare you?' She hissed. He seemed quite calm and the glint in his eyes showed her that he found the whole situation rather amusing.

'How dare you touch me?' Achilles laughed, a smooth sound that to her increased fury sent unwelcome tremors down her spine.

'I am your slave my Chieftess and is it not a slave's duty to pleasure their master? Or mistress as the case may be?' She screamed like a wild animal and foolishly discarded the knife to pummel his chest with her bare hands. Achilles continued to laugh at the enraged beauty atop him and as she punched him again, he grasped her wrists firmly and used his legs to reverse their positions. At his movements, Sana struggled fiercely until he pinned her down with his narrow hips and brought her wrists together above her head. She was breathing heavily, the rise and fall of her ample bosom having been amplified by the position in which Achilles had trapped her. He certainly felt very pleased with himself now that he was in control. Sana's power over him had been just as undermining as it had been erotic and he was more than happy now that the situation had been remedied.

'Release me this instant!' Sana demanded, her blue eyes darkened to the colour of midnight. Achilles responded by leaning closer to her face, his blonde hair forming a veil around them, almost shutting them off from the rest of the world.

'As I told the girl Xante,' he murmured in her ear. 'Never under-estimate your opponent and it appears, Sana, that you have underestimated my ability to face a mere woman such as yourself.' He pulled back to see her predictable expression of indignant anger, a smirk on his handsome face.

'I am no mere woman Lord Achilles,' she hissed. 'I am the leader of my tribe, a fighter, not a stupid peasant girl you can intimidate with brutish seduction!' He chuckled.

'Then why is it that you have allowed yourself to be caught in such a compromising position?' With that, he leant down and ran his tongue across the hollow at the base of her throat, just above her collarbone, before trailing open mouthed kisses over her neck and jaw line, Sana fighting him all the way. In fact, her delicious squirming was spurring him on with his ministrations. His face was hovering a hairsbreadth above hers, her eyes wide, challenging, as if daring him to go further. So he did.

OOOO! What happens next? Review to find out!


	4. Chapter 4

_So, sorry for a long gap between updates, but here we are, right where we left off, and things are getting a little steamy!_

Achilles skillfully closed the gap between them, capturing her lips with his own. Although enjoyable, their first kiss had been far too brief for his liking and this time Achilles took the time to explore her lips slowly and properly. They were soft and full as his own moved over Sana's, coaxing them to open with the practiced skill of a philanderer.

To his complete and utter surprise, Sana did not protest and lash out as expected, and he felt her body relax under his as her mouth opened up to him. Achilles took the advantage to nibble gently at her bottom lip eliciting a delicious moan from her like a mewling kitten, before his tongue delved deep into her sweet mouth. Sana responded almost instantly and before long their tongues were tangled in a seductive dance, a power struggle so appropriate to their situation he almost laughed aloud. He took hold of her wrists in one hand, the other trailing delicately but purposefully down the side of her body. Sana urged him onwards by arching her hips towards his and with unsuspected strength freed her wrists from his grasp to tangle her hands in his hair, down the smooth planes of his back, pulling him down even closer to her.

'So responsive,' Achilles murmured against her mouth.

'Quite,' she replied, before in a sudden movement she pushed him away and her hand shot out for the knife. She straddled the temporarily immobile warrior and he felt the now-familiar coolness of a blade against his throat. He looked up at her in complete bewilderment, not failing to notice how flushed and deliciously mused she was from their kisses. Sana was scrambling around for the irons and in his state of shock, Achilles put up no resistance as she bound his hands. Once they were securely fastened, she got to her feet regally and sent him a disdainful look.

'As I said Achilles, I am no mere woman, and certainly not one to be toyed with by the likes of you.'

Achilles managed to sit up, but could not find anything to say. Sana's glance went briefly to the now uncomfortable area of his body that was screaming in protest at her absence.

'I'm afraid that you will have to relieve yourself tonight My Lord.' She swept aside the animal skin doorway and disappeared into the night. Achilles let out an almighty groan and fell back onto the makeshift bedding. Never before had a woman lit such a fire in him, that whenever he thought he had the upper hand she could still make him her fool. Sana's kiss was imprinted on his memory and he shifted in discomfort, trying to find a way to spend the night despite the painful agony of male un-satisfaction.

* * *

Sana was meticulous in her attempt to distance herself from Achilles come morning, only too happy to allow Elya to ruthlessly drag him about camp like a dog, assigning him to manual labour in mending some of the thatching of the huts. She decided to hold council with some of her main and loyal advisors, discussing mundane things like food rations and construction and she thoroughly re-emerged herself in her role as Chieftess. She unwillingly admitted to herself that she had been distracted of late, too focused on her Greek prisoner and neglectful of her duties. Yet, despite her exceptional and somewhat formidable will power, Sana could not for the life of her keep her thoughts from the warrior and as her advisors started to bicker amongst themselves, she found herself unwillingly looking out of her hut and seeking out Achilles.

He was moving nimbly and without visible complaint of the roof of a long-dilapidated hut, re-thatching and strengthening. He had discarded his metal breastplate in the unforgiving sun and Sana cursed by the name of every God conceivable at the way his muscles rippled with his movements. She then proceeded (quite rightly) for the thoughts arising involving licking the beads of delicious perspiration from his chest. Elya stood guard avidly and for good measure lased out with a leather whip that she held firmly in her aging hand. It was all Sana could do not to groan at the images that came to her of herself, Achilles, a secluded hut and that whip. As if sensing her impure thoughts, by the Gods no, he looked up and caught her eye across the camp. For the briefest of moments that passed between them, which felt like an eternity, he had no expression except for something unknown held in his brown eyes, before a male smirk of delight crossed his face. At his pause Elya whipped at him again, which he ducked to avoid, and Achilles withdrew his gaze from Sana as he turned back to his task.

'My Chieftess?' Sana jumped and managed to offer a shaky smile for her advisor and trusted friend Leyana.

'Forgive me Leyana, what did you ask of me? I was far away in my own thoughts.'

'My Lady Sana,' Leyana began cautiously, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder in annoyance at the sheer heat. 'I asked what is to be done with the mighty Achilles. The Greeks will be searching for him no doubt and I believe this to compromise the safety of the entire camp. Skilled as we are, we could not defend ourselves against an entire party of…ravenous Greek soldiers.' Sana hesitated; Leyana did indeed speak the truth. The Greeks would certainly notice Achilles' absence and Agamemnon would definitely not rest until his finest warrior was returned to his camp. To have Achilles remain with them endangered all that her mother and others before her and strived to achieve. Yet, although her call to duty was strong as the siren's call of legend, and however much she despised him for it, Achilles intrigued her. He elicited raw emotions that touched her very core, places unbeknownst, even to her. She did not want to be parted from the infuriatingly handsome warrior quite so soon, and as always her selfish needs won over the call of duty.

'I will meditate on the matter and present my decision to the council one week from today,' Sana decreed diplomatically with a content nod. A week gave her plenty of time to explore, and if necessary, humble the warrior. She caught sight of him again and felt a tremor in her stomach. That is, she thought with a sigh, if he doesn't destroy me through lust first.

'There is another issue in need of attention,' Leyana continued with the beginnings of an excited smile. 'The full moon approaches, it is time for the festival.'

There were feminine murmurs of interest and apprehension almost immediately.

'Ah yes, the festival,' Sana said with a wry smile. 'Tomorrow, if my astrology skills are intact.'

'Yes My Chieftess,' answered another woman, the one called Arwyn. 'The tribe is most anxious for the preparations to begin, yet feel hindered by a male presence.'

'I assure you Arwyn, Achilles will not by any means be an inconvenience,' Sana said, patting the other woman affectionately on the knee. 'In fact, I believe the whole experience may be rather enlightening for him,' she got to her feet and the rest followed, as was custom. 'Tell the women to prepare as usual come daybreak tomorrow, there shall be the usual festivities, merriment and drinking. I can feel the pleasure the Gods feel in anticipation of this cherished event, this month will be one of fertility, it has most certainly been blessed.'

The women bowed their heads, a gesture which Sana graciously returned before she made with haste from the hut.

'I sense a change in our Chieftess,' remarked Leyana, who some dubbed as the wise woman of the tribe, gifting with Divine Sight. There was collective agreement with her words.

'But what does this mean?' Asked the ever-curious Arwyn.

'I think,' began Leyana in a low, almost inaudible voice. 'That Sana may have found someone worthy enough to father her child, at long last.'

'You cannot mean…the warrior Achilles?'

'Tomorrow's festivities, I wager, will be even more revealing than usual,' Leyana concluded, a look of bemused curiosity across her fair features as she watched her trusted leader's retreating back.

* * *

'Keep moving you worthless Greek!' Elya shouted irritably, punctuating her words with another sharp lash at Achilles' exposed back. This one he did not manage to avoid in time and he let out a slight hiss of pain as he felt the blood break through his skin.

'I sense you are bitter my Lady,' he called down from the roof. Elya shot him a withering glare, taking a large desperate gulp of water from her sheepskin flask, desperate for some release from the abominable heat of a Trojan summer.

'Is it because you have not been called to a counsel of elders, and instead have the less attractive task of minding me?' He pressed, halting to better examine the aging woman standing below him.

'I do not question the honourable Sana's actions,' Elya replied, unconsciously expressing her inner frustration at exactly what he had guessed. 'I am proud to watch over filth like you if that is what she wishes.'

'Filth like me?' Achilles repeated thoughtfully. 'Filth as in my heritage? Or simply the fact that I am a man?'

'Neither work in your favour,' she sneered unpleasantly. 'Now stop talking and get on with your task.'

'No pray let's continue this conversation,' Achilles said, crouching and stretching out comfortably on the roof, his face a few feet above her, his eyes wide with suppressed laughter. 'It is most illuminating; never before have I heard my sex be so scorned. Dislike of the Greeks though, that's fairly common, especially I wager here in Troy.'

'Well what do you expect when you invade a nation for the sake of one pathetic king who couldn't hold onto his wife?'

Now that blunt summary of the purpose for war certainly made him laugh at its sheer accuracy.

'Maybe you should say that to Agamemnon, I for one would certainly appreciate some sense being forcibly knocked into that king.'

'The war is of no concern to us,' she replied. 'Nor to the families and villages that work the land. It is only those who dwell within the city who need to be concerned. We care nothing for either Trojans or Greeks, you can squabble all you want, we will outlast you.'

'Outlast us?' Achilles repeated thoughtfully. 'Yet what if Agamemnon decides to wage war on the peasant farmers, and your supply of fresh male seed is brutally extinguished? What would you do then?'

Elya hesitated; she hadn't thought of that particular scenario. As much as this die-hard Amazonian hated to admit it, the very survival of their tribe depended on a supply of men to breed with.

'We could cope,' she answered eventually. 'We would move on, perhaps into the mountains. Besides, we have enough children to raise and train as you can see.'

Achilles glanced around the camp and did indeed see an abundance of young girls, some stumbling around testing out the strength of their newly-developed chubby legs, others playing games and twirling in circles, their innocent laughter carrying towards him on the wind. Others were nearing the brink of womanhood, twelve-year-old girls whose bodies were starting to develop alongside their weaponry skills. The oldest adolescent he wagered to be Xante, and after that he could no longer call them girls, for they were fully-grown, somewhat intimidating women.

'Do you ever fear for their safety, the young ones I mean?' Achilles asked seriously. 'Without a man to protect them?'

Elya shot him a lethal glare and he barely managed to restrain his instinct to recoil from the hate that glimmered in her grey eyes.

'My father never protected me, and I survived, so why do they require male protection? They are safe and loved by women, and that is all the need. This conversation is over.'

With a crack of her whip, causing him to jump out of the way once again, she turned her stiff, proud back on him and Achilles returned, thoughtfully, to his work.

* * *

He was exhausted when he fell onto his makeshift bedding that night; Elya was certainly a cruel taskmistress, the welts on his back smarting as proof. Sleep came quickly that night, yet it felt as if he'd been asleep for merely moments when Xante came running into his hut, practically throwing the plate containing his meal at his chest before turning tail, giggling as she did. Dawn had barely even broken yet the sheer volume of noise coming from the camp astounded Achilles. He'd never heard so much feminine excitement displayed quite so loudly. The camp he walked into was far different to anything he'd seen in his time with the Selasya Tribe over the past few days. There were no domestic chores, nor any women training with weaponry. Instead, they were doing something most unexpected. They were dancing. The youngest of the girls were in the center of the others, who had formed a circle, and were adorned in honeysuckle flowers and other leaves from the trees around the camp. They were worshipping a burnished gold statue of the bull God Dionysos, who was also covered in delicate flowers. The young girls were laughing with the tender innocence associated with youth, dousing each other in rosewater, rejoicing as the sun came up, pink-tinged over the hills. The outer circle were dancing around the blessed Children of the Selasya, it was ecstatic, unrestrained, almost wantonly, a pure revelry dedicated to the empowerment of women and a plea for fertility. Achilles was, for a rare occasional moment, speechless. His mother had told him of the rituals practiced by some, sheer dedication to the Gods, yet he'd never been privy to witness one. Achilles had never viewed himself as a religious man; he'd delivered too much death to believe in something better than the life that he lived. Yet this, this total loss of inhibitions, opened his eyes to something more. The heady perfume of the water and flowers, joined by some sort of incense, was increased by the sweet music coming from wood flutes and lyres and the women began to move even more vigorously. It was then that Sana appeared and all coherent thoughts of the warriors vanished into the early morning sky.

'Sisters!' She cried as she stepped into the circle. The young girls, and music, ceased and the children bowed respectively. Sana, glorious in a floor length plum-coloured toga trimmed with gold, her hair pulled back to display her flawless face, approached the statue. 'Hail oh Dionysos,' she began, and the women echoed 'hail' dropping to their knees. 'Bless this most cherished joining,' she continued. 'Tonight in your name, we allow the seed to enter our wombs, pray let many more strong and beautiful women be conceived of this union, ever to be your faithful servants!' A cheer erupted, and Sana motioned for the young girls to come forward. 'Care for the young, may they grow in health, and goodness to do your will, and with lust for life!' She anointed each of the young girls with a thick paste upon their forehead. A goblet of wine was handed to her and she raised it piously to the statue, 'In your name.'

'In your name,' repeated the women, and all drank deeply. Sana, flushed, smiled at them all, formalities finished with. 'Now we feast!' This was certainly a popular sentiment, as all returned to their decadence, food and freshwater being produced. Sana hugged the children to her in delight before she rose and started towards her women, but not before she caught Achilles gaze across the camp. Her blue eyes were turbulent pools of emotion, once so hard to fathom, now completely bared to him. There was uncertainty, fear, hope, joy and strongest of all, desire. Desire for him. Achilles straightened his spine and met the eye contact steadily, to which she noticeably sighed, and granted the fortunate yet surprised Greek warrior with a small smile, full of promise, before turning away and leaving him fixated on the spot where she had been; in front of Dionysos.


End file.
